


Trapping the Wild Xander in Eight Easy Steps

by Mireille



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Community: maleslashminis, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-23
Updated: 2007-09-23
Packaged: 2019-03-18 00:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13670091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mireille/pseuds/Mireille
Summary: Larry has a plan. He didn't say it's a good one. (Set in a slightly AU version of S3.)





	Trapping the Wild Xander in Eight Easy Steps

**Author's Note:**

> This story was based on a terrible, terrible WikiHow list of tips on "how to get your crush." While my old link to it still works, the list is now infinitely less hilarious/awful now and therefore much less relevant to this story. You can probably reconstruct the list as you read, anyway.

It started with a twitch.   
  
Xander was used to that kind of twitchy feeling between his shoulder blades; it usually meant that he was in a cemetery after dark with a vampire or something gross and scaly creeping up behind him and it was about time to start running very fast.   
  
But he was sitting in the cafeteria at lunchtime, and the only thing gross and scaly around was the Salisbury steak on his tray. There was absolutely no reason for him to suddenly feel twitchy and nervous. Except, of course, the aforementioned Salisbury steak, and that couldn't hurt him if he didn't eat it.   
  
"What is  _with_  you?" Buffy demanded the second time Xander had squirmed in his chair-- just in case the twitch was actually an ordinary itch and he could get rid of it by scratching his back--and had accidentally kicked her in the ankle in the process.   
  
"Did your mom go back to buying that cheap laundry detergent again?" Willow asked sympathetically, which would have been okay if she hadn't then turned to Buffy and explained, "In eighth grade his mom started using some weird generic laundry detergent and Xander looked like he had poison ivy for six weeks until something else went on sale. Harmony started calling him Scab Boy." Then she apparently  _noticed_  that Xander was trying to slide under the table, and she blushed. "And that was something that I probably should have kept to myself, huh?"   
  
"No, of course not," Xander said in a fake-cheerful voice. "Like I always say, a day without humiliation is like a day without syphilis."   
  
You'd have thought that Willow digging up embarrassing moments from the past would have distracted him from the twitch, but you would have been wrong. Xander turned around, trying to see if there was anybody creeping up on him. Of course, if there had been, he'd like to think that Willow would have given him some kind of warning, but he wasn't taking any chances.   
  
Unfortunately, there wasn't anything behind him that should have been making him paranoid. The only thing he could see was rows of tables with people all engaged in their own personal struggles with the Salisbury steak.   
  
He'd turned almost all the way around in his seat now; he was looking at the athletes' table, and maybe the twitching was just his Spider-senses tingling to warn him of an approaching ass-kicking by one of the football players.   
  
And then Larry looked up from his lunch, just as Xander looked in his direction. Their eyes met, and Larry grinned at him before picking up his spoon and digging into his Jell-O.   
  
Okay, that settled it, Xander thought. His future definitely involved getting punched in the face.   
  
In a way, it was kind of reassuring to know what was coming.   
  
  


***

  
  
He wouldn't say that waiting for a punch that never came was  _worse_  than actually getting punched, but it lasted longer. So far, it had lasted three days, during which every time Xander looked over at Larry, Larry was grinning at him.   
  
If it hadn't been for that, Xander would have thought that the nervous twitch between his shoulder blades had just been the tag from his t-shirt poking him. After all, it had been a long time since Larry had hit him. As it was, though, Xander was starting to get seriously paranoid.   
  
It hadn't been hard to avoid Larry, at first. Since Xander and Cordelia had split up, Xander's social status with the popular kids had gone from "outcast" to "leper, possibly with festering sores," so it wasn't like Larry's friends would be insisting on Xander hanging out with them. All Xander had to do was cut math class, and it wasn't like that was any real hardship.   
  
Xander was willing to cut math class  _without_  a good excuse. Actually, "it's math class," had always seemed like a perfectly good excuse to him.   
  
Then Larry seemed to have caught on to Xander's brilliant plan, because suddenly, everywhere he went, there was Larry. At his locker? Larry. At the lunch table across from the one Xander usually sat at? Larry. Waiting outside the library? Larry.   
  
 _Grinning._  It was getting creepy.   
  
It got creepier, though, when Larry walked up while Xander was at the water fountain. Xander hadn't seen him come up; he was too preoccupied with trying to take a drink without getting water on his shirt, because he'd forgotten that this was the fountain that sprayed water in all directions if you pushed the button too hard.   
  
"Hey, Xander," Larry said from behind him.   
  
"Gah!" Xander inhaled a mouthful of water, coughing and spluttering and managing to get water down the front of his shirt anyway. "What the  _hell_?"  
  
"It's just me," Larry said as Xander turned around. Xander stared at him. "Larry?"  
  
"I've known you most of my life; I'm pretty sure I can remember your name." He shook his head, edging away from the water fountain in case he had to make a quick getaway. "What do you  _want_?"   
  
He shrugged. "Just wanted to say hi."  
  
Right. "Why am I finding that hard to believe?" It'd be a lot easier to believe that Larry had gone to "psychological torture" camp last summer and was practicing on Xander.   
  
Larry frowned at him, but whatever he was about to say got interrupted when the bell rang and they both had to run to class.   
  
  


***

  
  
"So, I was thinking," Larry said, coming up to where Xander was waiting for Buffy and Willow to come out of the bathroom.   
  
Xander looked at the size of Larry's biceps, reminded himself how much Larry's fists hurt when they punched you in the stomach, and did  _not_  ask if it had hurt. "Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah," Larry said, completely unaware of how much self-control Xander was having to exert to control his natural tendency to be a smartass. "Are you going to be at the Bronze tonight?"  
  
"Uh, no," Xander said. And suddenly, helping Buffy look for the particular gravestone she needed to find, even though they weren't even sure which cemetery it was in, sounded like a great plan for the evening.   
  
"Oh." The door to the girls' room opened, and Xander thought for a minute that he was going to be able to get away, but it was just a group of giggling sophomore girls. His heart sank as Larry started talking again. "So, what are you doing?"   
  
"Grave-robbing," Xander said, which was probably a mistake even if it was the truth. Especially because it was the truth.   
  
Larry glared at him, and Xander almost felt relieved. Larry was going to stop being weird and creepy, and finally get around to beating him up.   
  
But instead, all Larry said was, "Fine, be an asshole," and walked off.   
  
  


***

  
  
"You know," Buffy said, popping open her can of soda and opening her history book, "We might be looking at this thing with Larry from the wrong angle."   
  
"The only angle I want to look at it from is from the angle of over my shoulder as I run away," Xander said. "It's getting seriously disturbing. I was at the 7-11 buying a coke yesterday and there he was."  
  
"He was stalking you?" Willow asked, her eyes wide. "Because if he was stalking you, maybe you should--"  
  
"He wasn't stalking me," Xander admitted. "He was there buying gas. But he waved."   
  
"He waved?" Buffy repeated. "And you didn't call the police? Because I think that's a felony in this state."   
  
"Mock me if you want," Xander began.  
  
"We want," Buffy said.   
  
"You  _are_  kind of overreacting a little," Willow agreed. "He could just be being friendly."   
  
"There was an implied threat!" Xander protested, waving his arms so emphatically that, if it hadn't been for Buffy's Slayer reflexes, he would have knocked her Diet Coke out of her hand.   
  
"Waving," she said again. "There was an implied 'hello.' And maybe a 'how are you doing?'"  
  
"Larry doesn't care how I'm doing," he insisted. "The only time Larry ever cares how I am is when he's made me bleed, and then it's not so much concern as it is pride." Not that Larry had hit him in ages, but he had clearly just been resting up for another round, and now he was wearing down Xander's defenses. It would happen, one of these days, and Xander found himself kind of hoping that it would be sooner rather than later. Bleeding would probably be less stressful than this.   
  
"Actually," Buffy said, "I'm not so sure he wants to hit you."   
  
"Hit, kick, bludgeon--what's the difference? A concussion is a concussion." He would have expected a little more sympathy from his friends, really, but maybe he'd been pushing the limits of the whole "sympathy" thing lately. First, they--and when he said "they," he really meant "Buffy," because Willow had been in the same position he was--hadn't given him any crap about his breakup with Cordelia. And then there'd been that whole thing with Scott Hope last month; Buffy and Willow had been completely cool through the whole "oh my God I made out with a guy" thing, and Buffy had waited until he was thoroughly un-freaked out before she gave him crap about it being Scott.   
  
Then, of course, Scott had been a complete asshole, which Buffy told him he should have seen coming, and they'd put up with Xander moping around for a few days until he'd realized that one, he really should have seen it coming, and two, he didn't care all that much anyway.   
  
So maybe asking them to be understanding of his very logical fear that Larry was just trying to mentally break him  _before_  beating him up was a little much. Still, that was what friends did, and the girls were definitely letting him down.   
  
Like Willow, who tilted her head to one side and studied him thoughtfully. "Buffy might be right," she said. "I mean, he's hanging around you, talking to you, trying to find out when you're going to the Bronze. It doesn't  _sound_  like he wants to hit you."  
  
"Hit  _on_  you, maybe," Buffy finished for her.  
  
Xander hadn't been struck speechless too many times in his life, but right now, all he could do was stare at them making random gurgling noises. "You--he--no way!" he finally managed to get out.   
  
"Why not?" Buffy said.   
  
"Why not?" he repeated. "Why  _not_? Because that's crazy talk! Larry--me--that's insanity."  
  
"The smiling, the talking, the acting like a moron," Buffy said, ticking them off on her fingers. "It's like he has a checklist of 'how to act when you have a crush.'"   
  
"Now, that's just disturbing."   
  
"Nobody said you had to like him back," Willow pointed out, which completely missed the point. The point was that even if Larry was gay, and Xander had figured out that he apparently wanted humiliating rejection from both girls  _and_  guys to be part of his life, there was still no chance in hell that Larry was hitting on him. Larry couldn't stand him, and vice versa.   
  
This was all just a grand scheme to make Xander paranoid. And it was definitely working.   
  
  


***

  
  
  
"I'm doing an interview for the school newspaper," Larry said.   
  
He had a notebook, true, but there was no way Xander was falling for this one. "Since when are you a newspaper geek?" he demanded. For that matter, since when could Larry  _write_?   
  
"Since I needed extra credit in English," was the answer, which was actually believable. Then, after a few seconds, he added, "Not that it's any of your business."   
  
Xander slumped back against the wall, deciding that if Larry needed extra credit, he'd be more likely, not less, to punch someone who refused to give him an interview. "Fine."   
  
"Okay," Larry said, sounding a little surprised. "Um... I'm supposed to be researching a story about hobbies."  
  
"Hobbies?" Right, because between school and assistant world-saver duties, Xander had time for hobbies. "You want to know what my hobbies are," he said, trying not to sound disbelieving. He knew the paper was occasionally pretty lame, but this was ridiculous.   
  
"Like, some people collect stamps, and some people fix old cars, and some people play football," Larry said, speaking slowly and distinctly, like he thought Xander was an idiot. Of course, the way Xander was staring at him in complete bogglement, he'd probably be justified if he did think that.   
  
"I know what a hobby is," Xander said. "I just don't know why you're asking me."  
  
"Look, are you going to help me with this interview or not?" Larry snapped, waving the notebook at Xander. "If not, I need to go ask somebody else."   
  
"Okay," Xander said, trying to think of a hobby that didn't involve carving stakes or trying not to get killed. "Comics," he said finally. "I read comics." Not often, because half the time these days he didn't have time, but Larry didn't have to know that.   
  
Larry started to make a note in his notebook, and Xander took that opportunity to head off down the hall, before Larry thought of the next question to ask him.   
  
Well, that had been weird, he thought, but at least it didn't give the girls any more evidence for their "Larry actually likes you" theory. He was probably just the first person Larry saw after he got the assignment.   
  
When he heard Larry asking one of the guys from the A/V club whether they knew where the comics store downtown was, though, he started to wonder.   
  
Then it just got a little too weird to think about, so he made himself think about Salma Hayek instead.   
  
  


***

  
  
"Can I sit here?"   
  
Recognizing the voice, Xander was about to say, "No, and a side of 'hell, no,'" when Buffy nudged him with her elbow and said, "Sure, Larry, no problem."   
  
"What are you doing?" Xander hissed under his breath, but Buffy ignored him. So did Larry, who set down his tray and pulled out a chair, so Xander decided to try a variation on his question. "What are you doing here?"   
  
Larry shrugged. "There was an empty chair."   
  
Which was true, because Willow was making up a science quiz she'd missed, but that didn't mean that Larry had to come and sit with them. Larry  _never_ sat with them.   
  
This was just going to convince Buffy that she was right about Larry liking him.   
  
And maybe it was going to convince  _Xander_  that Buffy was right about Larry liking him, because Larry spent the entire lunch period trying to start a conversation, even though Xander completely ignored him every time he opened his mouth.   
  
He didn't feel even slightly guilty that Buffy got stuck talking to Larry, either, because it was Buffy's fault Larry was there in the first place.  
  
And if some of the things Larry was saying were actually kind of interesting, it didn't matter, because Xander still wasn't saying anything.   
  
  


***

  
  
"You win," Xander said, sighing.  
  
"We win what?" Willow asked, her brow furrowed slightly. Then she must have caught sight of the little group of football players at the end of the hall, because she went on, "Oh! You mean the thing with Larry."   
  
"Wait," Buffy said. "He isn't anywhere near us. How come we suddenly win? I mean, I know we're right, but why now?"   
  
"Tic Tacs," Xander said, wearily. He'd honestly still prefer it if Larry punched him, he thought, but he was starting to lean in the direction of believing that was never going to happen. Every time Larry got anywhere near him today, he'd taken a plastic box of mints out of his pocket and popped a handful of them. Larry probably had the freshest breath in California at this point; he was obviously trying to impress  _somebody_. And given that he hadn't given up on grinning at Xander every time they passed in the hall, Xander was going to guess that it was him.   
  
He still hadn't ruled out this being some kind of devastating psychological torture, though, especially not since it was starting to work. It was kind of flattering to think that Larry had been so persistent, for one thing. And, well, he wasn't going to tell the girls, but when he really thought about it, Larry was kind of... not bad looking. And Xander had to respect a guy who'd been willing to make a complete idiot of himself to get Xander's attention.   
  
But Xander wasn't going to fall prey to Larry's sophisticated attempts at manipulation. No way. He was going to hold firm. He was going to completely pretend he hadn't noticed.   
  
He was going to see if he could buy stock in Tic Tacs.  
  
  


***

  
  
"Aw, fuck it. This is useless."   
  
That wasn't how this conversation was supposed to go, Xander thought, starting to feel a little panicky again. He'd had it all worked out! Larry was supposed to confess his feelings, and Xander was going to let him down easy, and then it would all be  _over_. It was his plan. It was meticulous and foolproof.   
  
Except that Larry had met up with him outside during lunch, and they'd stood there for a few minutes while Larry tried to remember how to speak English, or something, and Xander waited for him to come up with actual words.   
  
Those weren't the words Xander had been expecting, though, and so the only thing he could say in response was, "Huh?"  
  
"This," Larry said, waving his hand between the two of them. "It was supposed to be going better than this."   
  
Other than the paranoia, Xander couldn't complain all that much about the way things were going. It was definitely a low-stress conversation.   
  
For him, at least. Larry, on the other hand, shook his head and said, "Fuck it," again.   
  
Xander was just about to open his mouth and say something that was both reassuring and manly, when Larry's hands cupped the sides of his face.   
  
That, he thought for a fleeting second, was a very bad sign.  
  
Well, it was either a bad sign, or a very good sign indeed, because the next thing Larry did was to kiss him.   
  
As kisses went, Xander was less of an expert than he wanted people to think, but also as kisses went, this was definitely not a bad one. Larry's lips were warm and dry and a little chapped, and Larry's hands on his face were a little sweaty, but not bad. Just like this was making Larry nervous, like he wasn't the one who was pushing Xander back against the side of the building and kissing him for what felt like a ridiculously long time.   
  
Xander's intention to let Larry down easily had evaporated somewhere; his hands had settled on Larry's upper arms, holding on tight as he kissed Larry back. What the hell, he thought; Larry had had to work pretty hard for this. Maybe the smart thing for Xander to do would be to go along with it and see what happened. It wouldn’t be the end of the world.   
  
And even if it was, at least one of his best friends could take care of it while he got on with the important job of kissing Larry.   
  
In the back of his mind, he realized that for the first time in over a week, the twitch between his shoulder blades was completely gone.

**Author's Note:**

> [me on tumblr](https://mireille719.tumblr.com)


End file.
